


Only Fools Rush In

by earthquaker



Series: Am I Gonna Get to Love You? [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Fluff and Angst, Las Vegas, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smut, but instead, idiots to lovers, this was meant to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthquaker/pseuds/earthquaker
Summary: “Just don’t let me do anything stupid.”“Please Parrish, when have I ever let you do anything stupid?”“Do you really want me to answer that?”(Or: The one where they get accidentally married in Las Vegas and then deal with it very badly)
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Am I Gonna Get to Love You? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016139
Comments: 17
Kudos: 166





	Only Fools Rush In

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic I've written for this fandom, and the first I've written & published for almost 7 years! This is fic is loosely inspired by that one Friends episode and I did intend for it to be funny and light-hearted but then I got feelings all over it. Enjoy!

_“Just don’t let me do anything stupid.”_

_“Please Parrish, when have I ever let you do anything stupid?”_

_“Do you really want me to answer that?”_

*

When Adam woke up, the first thing he was aware of was that his head felt like someone had tried to cleave it in two with a blunt axe. The second thing he was aware of was the wave of nausea roiling in his stomach. And the third, the one that maybe should have been at the top of Adam’s list, was the Ronan was lying half on top of him, his head pillowed on Adam’s chest.

Ronan groaned and rolled away from Adam. “Morning, Parrish,” he said, twisting around to look up at Adam.

In spite of himself, and the situation, Adam laughed when he got a look a Ronan’s face.

“What?” Ronan was scowling at him.

“You’ve got—” Adam pointed at his face. “Pen all over your face. Cat whiskers. It’s weirdly adorable.”

Ronan didn’t comment on being called adorable. He was looking at Adam with wide-eyed panic written across his face. “You’ve – uh, got pen on your face too… Although you probably don’t want to see it.”

“Why not? Do I not look adorable?” He rolled out of the bed and then immediately regretted it when it made him feel even more sick. He stumbled towards the bathroom; he’d slept in his jeans and he shucked them as he went. He pressed his knuckles to his forehead like he thought he could iron the headache out.

“I just don’t think you’ll like it,” Ronan called from the bed.

Adam frowned at his reflection. He dropped his hand from his forehead. There, across his forehead, in black biro, it said MR LYNCH.

“Huh,” said Adam, and then promptly threw up in the sink.

When he came back out, Ronan was standing at the end of the bed. He’d pulled on a pair of boxers and was staring at a piece of paper like it had the secrets of the universe scrawled on it.

Adam watched him for a minute. He wished he could remember last night. “Did we… have sex last night?” It didn’t seem right that he’d put his jeans back on after if they had, but he’d done stranger things while intoxicated.

Ronan still hadn’t looked at him. “No,” he said, absently. “Definitely too drunk for that.”

Adam studied Ronan carefully. He had a deep crease between his eyebrows from frowning at the paper in his hand, and a dark hickey high on his neck. Adam remembered kissing him. He remembered kissing him a _lot._ He blamed the butterflies in his stomach on his hangover. It wasn’t a big deal, he reminded himself. They’d kissed before, it had never been a big deal, or even something they’d talked about. He and Ronan seemed to tread an incredibly fine line, anything more than drunk kissing was firmly on the other side of it.

“So, I’m guessing we got outrageously drunk and then you got weirdly possessive and… wrote your name on me? It’s fine, I’ll wash this off and then we can never speak of this again? You know, the usual?” He laughed humourlessly.

“I don’t think that’s going to cut it this time,” Ronan replied. He still hadn’t looked up from that damn paper.

Adam’s heart stopped. “You don’t?”

Instead of an answer, Ronan handed Adam the piece of paper. Adam had barely glanced down at it, just long enough to see the words “Marriage licence” and his and Ronan’s signatures scrawled hastily at the bottom before another wave of nausea rolled up. He turned and ran to the toilet.

“Come on! It’s not that bad!” Ronan called through the door. His voice was light and jokey, but Adam could hear the tinge of panic in it. “It could be worse; you could’ve married Gansey!”

“Not funny!” Adam shouted back. His head was spinning. The line hadn’t just been crossed; it had been completely obliterated. This had to be fake, this had to be some stupid joke, or maybe he was asleep, and this was all an incredibly realistic dream. “Why are you not freaking out?” Desperate panic coloured his voice.

“Because Parrish, I knew you’d freak out and one of us has to be the rational one. I’ve decided to take up that mantle.”

“First time for everything,” Adam huffed.

“Oh, do one,” Ronan said as he came into the bathroom. He looked down at where Adam was pathetically slumped by the toilet.

“There’s no way that’s real. They don’t let people who are blackout drunk get married. Besides, we’re both guys.”

“Oh yeah, and of course when they legalised gay marriage, they legalised it everywhere _but_ Elvis’ Love Chapel on the Las Vegas strip.”

Adam was still sat on the bathroom floor. Ronan collapsed down next to him and tipped his head back against the towel rail. Adam rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder. “Do you remember anything from last night?” he asked Ronan.

“I remember laughing a lot. I remember there was a lot of alcohol. I remember trying to climb into the Bellagio fountains. Thanks for stopping me, man.”

“I… vaguely remember that. There were a lot of people yelling at you. But do you remember the, uh—wedding?”

“No, I don’t even remember deciding it would be a good idea.”

“How do you know the name of the chapel then?”

“It’s on the certificate, Einstein.”

“Oh God. Did we get married by an Elvis impersonator? That is… so cliché.”

“Cringey you mean. If this had happened to someone else, it would be incredibly funny.”

Adam groaned. “It is real isn’t it? Fuck, I’m never getting drunk with you again.”

“Fuck that, I’m never drinking again, whether you’re there or not.”

Adam turned his head and buried his face in Ronan’s shoulder. “Jeez if that’s what it took to get you to stop drinking, I’d have married you ages ago.”

Ronan grunted, and Adam immediately regretted his words.

“Right.” Adam had crashed through the upper limit of his panic and was now feeling vaguely numb. “What are we going to do?”

Ronan looked at him. Adam tilted his head up to look him in the eyes. There was something vaguely sad about his expression, Adam thought. “We’ll just –” He looked away from Adam and rubbed at the shaved hair on the back of his head. “Get a divorce. It’ll be fine, as soon as we get back to DC I’ll find a lawyer. We don’t even have to tell anyone about this if you don’t want to.”

Adam exhaled hard, releasing a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “Okay. Should we go find the others? For breakfast? I think Blue text me. I don’t think I could eat but maybe coffee?”

“Might wanna clean that shit off your face first, Mr Lynch,” Ronan said as he got to his feet. He threw a washcloth from the sink into Adam’s lap. Adam flipped him off as he left the room.

*

After they’d both showered, and washed the pen off their faces, they found Blue, Gansey, Noah, and Henry down in the restaurant breakfast. The four of them were furiously whispering to each other but stopped abruptly as soon as they caught sight of Adam and Ronan.

Gansey looked about as sick as Adam felt. Noah was grinning widely at both of them, while Henry was avoiding eye contact with everyone, looking very much like he was trying not to laugh. Blue was looking between the two of them, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Adam could feel the tension rise as he sat at the table. Ronan sat opposite him, his face like thunder.

“So,” said Blue, slowly. “How are the newlyweds?”

Adam groaned and crashed his head to the table. The pain of it reverberated round his already aching head.

“Fuck,” said Ronan, emphatically.

Henry and Noah looked at each other and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“I guess, congratulations?” said Gansey.

Adam groaned. He folded his arms up under his head and very pointedly did not look up at anyone.

“So much for no one needs to know,” Ronan growled. Adam felt Ronan kick is shin under the table. “You okay, Parrish?”

Adam didn’t bother to dignify the question with a response.

“Can you even call him that anymore?” Noah broke through his giggles to ask.

“We know because you invited us all to watch,” Blue said, coolly.

Adam lifted his head to look at her. “You were there? Why the fuck didn’t you stop us?” he asked, annoyed.

“Don’t use that tone with me! It’s not up to me to herd you around Las Vegas, stopping you from making stupid mistakes,” she snapped back.

Adam glanced at Ronan. He was very pointedly staring into his cup of coffee, his jaw clenched.

“What Jane is getting to,” said Gansey. “Is that you both called us several times and left some voicemails, which we didn’t pick up until it was, well, too late.”

Adam thought very hard about how bad it would be if he threw up at the breakfast table.

“What are you going to do?” Blue was looking very intently at Ronan; he was concentrating extremely hard on pretending she wasn’t there.

“Divorce.” Ronan didn’t elaborate.

“Ooh, are you going to have a divorce party? Those are very popular now, and seeing as you didn’t really have a wedding party—”

“Fuck off Cheng. We’re not having a damn party.”

“In fact, we’re never speaking of this again, so you can all forget you know anything. Right?” Adam looked at Ronan for confirmation. He nodded.

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Henry was laughing again. Adam put his head back down on the table.

*

They’d been back in DC for three days now, and so far, Declan had called Ronan six times. He was sat on the sofa in his and Adam’s apartment when his phone lit up with DBAG LYNCH for the seventh time. Ronan knew there was, unfortunately, only one way to stop him calling.

“Stop calling me, shithead,” he snapped down the phone.

“I was only calling to say congratulations,” Declan snarked down the line. “Did you honestly think I was going to ignore my little brother getting married? I didn’t know you and Parrish were that serious. Would’ve thought he could do better.”

“That’s a funny way of saying congratulations. Anyway, you know that Adam and I aren’t exactly… together. It was a drunken mistake. There you go, you can lord that over me now too.” Ronan hated how pathetic he sounded.

Declan was silent; Ronan thought about hanging up on him. “So, does that mean you’ll be needing a lawyer? I’ve got a few contacts, I can send you some numbers.”

“Thanks, dickhead. Next time I get married, I’ll invite you, or some shit.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, you invited me alright. I got a lovely, expletive voicemail from you, telling me to bring Matthew to Vegas for, and I quote ‘the happiest day of your fucking life.’”

“Oh fuck,” Ronan swore emphatically.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought. Still want those numbers?”

“Yeah, it’s what Parrish wants. I can’t do this to him, force him to stay somewhere he doesn’t want to be, do something he doesn’t want. You know I can’t.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Of course I’ve talked to him about it. I asked him if he wanted to get a divorce and he said yes!”

Ronan could practically hear Declan frown down the phone. “I’ll send you the numbers. See you Sunday, you little shit.”

“Bye douchebag.”

*

The papers that the lawyer had given him to sign looked both boringly innocent and incredibly ominous. The sat on the kitchen worktop, then on the end table on top of a pile of Adam’s books, then on the coffee table. Wherever Ronan put them, they seemed to shout at him, ‘ _look what you’ve done, you’ve really fucked things up this time Lynch.’_ The divorce itself didn’t bother him, what bothered him was that it was _Adam_. He stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the papers.

He remembered the first time he’d kissed Adam. It was New Year’s Eve, during Adam’s junior year of college. It had become something of a tradition, New Year’s at the Barns, with all their miscellaneous found family.

Adam still rarely ever drank, but he’d been tipsy and giggling and Ronan had been ten times more so. It had been fun, secretly trading kisses in the hallway, laughing into each other’s mouths. He remembered his hands in Adam’s hair, Adam’s body moving against him. _This is it,_ he’d thought, _this is it._

When Ronan had woken the next morning, he’d watched Adam sleeping in the weak sunlight and pretended, just for a little while, that this was what it was always like. That Adam came to spend every break from college at The Barns with him, that waking up next to Adam was a regular occurrence, not the result of a drunken lapse in judgement on both of their parts. But it had been. And Adam hardly ever drank. Guilt had shot ice into Ronan’s stomach.

“Ronan—” Adam had started to say.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” Ronan cut across him. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t.”

Ronan had watched Adam carefully as he’d frowned and then carefully nodded. “Yeah, we don’t have to talk about it. It’s not a big deal.” It felt like a big deal.

Ronan had been so caught up in the memory that he hadn’t heard Adam come home.

“Lynch? Everything okay?” Adam was frowning at him.

Ronan gestured at the documents from the lawyer. “Went to the lawyer today. We just gotta sign and then it’s done. I’ll get take them back tomorrow and they’ll file them and then—” he swallowed. “It’s over.”

Was Ronan imagining that Adam looked sad? No, of course not. As bad as this was for Ronan, it had to be a thousand times worse for independent Adam Parrish.

“Does this mean I get half your stuff now?” Adam tried to joke, despite the growing tension.

“Fuck off, you are not having my car.” Ronan laughed bitterly. “It’s all in the paperwork. We each retain the original assets that we entered into the marriage with.” He was quoting what the lawyer had told him. Despite Adam’s attempts at a joke, the tension in the flat was palpable. For a minute neither of them said anything. 

“Great. Where do I sign?”

“That’s it then. We’re just going to do—” Ronan hated that his voice was catching. “Divorce?”

“Well, obviously. We can’t stay like this!”

“You can be really cold sometimes,” he snapped. He couldn’t look at Adam anymore, couldn’t watch him callously cutting Ronan out of his life. He snatched his car keys from the side and stormed out of the apartment.

*

“So, I take it being divorced before you’re 30 wasn’t in your big life plan?” Blue smirked at him. Adam had met her for lunch during his break from work. She was sat opposite him, blending in almost perfectly to the wall of plants behind her in the hipster-organic café she’d chosen to meet him in.

“Actually yeah, I’m supposed to have messily divorced my college girlfriend and given her half my billion dollar company by now.” Adam was tired of talking about this. He’d pinned too much hope on the whole “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” thing, but it was becoming evident to him that the trip had fundamentally damaged something between him and Ronan. Adam didn’t think it was just the marriage, or the drunk sex. Maybe it would’ve been better if he’d married Gansey, he mused. At least he didn’t live with him.

Blue ignored his sarcastic comment. “Have you talked to Ronan about it?” Blue asked.

“Uh, Declan gave him some contact numbers. He brought papers for me to sign yesterday.”

“Why does Declan know the numbers of divorce lawyers?”

“Maybe he drunkenly married an Ashley?”

“That… doesn’t sound very Declan.” Blue laughed. “You’re definitely going through with it then? You’ve signed everything.”

“Why would we not go through with it? It’s Ronan, he doesn’t want to stay married to me. You should’ve seen how quickly he decided we were getting a divorce.”

Blue contemplatively sucked the spoon of her yogurt. Adam hadn’t even noticed that the café served yogurt. Maybe she’d brought it with her.

“So, do neither of you remember anything at all from that night? Have you tried going through everywhere you remember being?”

“How is remembering what happened going to help? We’re getting a divorce and then forgetting the whole thing.”

“Aren’t you curious though?” She waved the spoon around dramatically. “Don’t you want to know what motivated you? Whose idea it was? How you felt?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Gansey. The answer is no, no, no and, oh, no.” Adam thought that answering those questions would open a can of worms that he had very carefully avoided opening for many years.

“I think,” she finally said. “You should listen to the voicemails you left on my phone. I think they might help.”

“Blue, I cannot tell you how much I do not want to hear them.” But it was too late. Ignoring Adam’s protests, Blue had scrolled through her phone and was already playing the first voicemail to Adam. Reluctantly, he took the phone from Blue and held up to his hearing ear.

“Bloooooooo!” His own voice sang down the receiver. Adam winced, his Henrietta accent was always so much more prominent when he’d been drinking. “We’re gonna get married! Ronan wants to marry me!” Then there was a lot of laughter crackling out of the speaker. Adam could recognise Ronan’s drunk giggles mixed in with his own. “You have to come; you have to come be my – my best man and Gansey can be—.” He hiccoughed. “Ronan’s and Noah can be the flower girl and, and, Ronan, Ronan, what can Henry do?”

Ronan was laughing into the phone now. “Dude I dunno, cater?” Adam and Ronan both dissolved into laughter.

“What? We don’t need a caterer. Do we?”

“He can bring a pizza. Is that Sargent? Tell her she’s gotta be your something blue.” More laughter.

“Okay, we’ll see you guys there!” The voicemail cut off.

Blue was looking at him carefully, both eyebrows pointedly raised.

“I’m guessing that’s not all.”

“No, unfortunately not.” She played the next voicemail.

“Blue, Blue, Blue. Stupid Nevada said we have to get a stupid licence. $77! Ronan can’t remember his PIN number.” Adam’s own drunk laugh echoed in his ear again.

“Fuck off Parrish, I can,” Ronan said in the background.

“You can’t call me that anymorrrrreeee,” drunk Adam sang.

The voicemail cut off.

Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anymore. “Can we stop?”

“Nope,” said Blue. “There’s only one more. It’s my favourite.”

“I definitely don’t want to hear it then.” As Blue had been playing him the voicemails, memories of the night in Vegas were coming back to him in tiny flashes, like a poorly edited supercut. Stumbling down the strip with Ronan’s arms around him; the lady at the chapel telling them where to buy a licence; Ronan kissing the side of his head; Ronan’s laughter in his ear; drawing cat whiskers on Ronan’s face and kissing his nose.

Blue played the last voicemail. Adam’s voice came through the speaker again. This time, he was whispering, in that way that drunk people do, where they think they’re being quiet, but their voice is just as loud as it would be if they haven’t tried at all. “Ronan’s peeing,” Adam whispered. “And we’re waiting to go in. I thought I’d be –,” Another hiccough. “—nervous Blue, but I’m not. I want this so bad.” Adam suddenly sounded far too sober. “I’m going to have forgotten all this in the morning. You have to tell me, Blue.”

Blue was looking at him very carefully again as the voicemail ended. Adam put his head in his hands.

“Bet that was a shock,” he said to her.

“Not really,” she replied. “It was to Gansey, but not to me.”

More memories of the night were returning to Adam. One in particular was pushing insistently to the forefront of his brain. He and Ronan had snuck into the little fake Venice and attempted to commandeer one of the boats. Ronan had tried to punt the boat away from the dock, but it was tied to the side and when he pushed away, he’d almost fallen in. Adam had caught him just in time and the whole boat rocked with their laughter.

“I love doing stupid shit like this with you,” he’d said, as Ronan scrambled to the back of the boat to untie it.

“It’s cos I have great ideas. Now shut up, let me row you around shitty fake Venice, it’ll be all romantic.”

Adam had laughed harder at that. “Oh!” he’d said. “We’re in Las Vegas!”

“Jesus Parrish, was fake Venice so convincing that you’d forgotten?”

“You know what people do in Vegas? It would be so funny, we should get married! Then we can do dumb shit together all the time.”

“That is the worst idea you’ve ever had Parrish. I love it.”

“Hey!” A member of staff from the hotel had appeared and chased them away from the dock. Adam couldn’t remember what happened after that. He supposed the voicemails on Blue’s phone filled in the blanks for him.

“It was my idea,” he told her. “Oh fucking hell. Lynch is gonna be so mad.”

Blue pursed her lips. “Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him what you remembered.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well. Hey Ronan, remember when we got drunkenly married in Las Vegas? No, of course you don’t, you were blind drunk. Well I’ve remembered what happened and it turns out I tricked you into it because when I get drunk, I forget that I can’t have you. Sorry for ruining your life. Bye forever.”

“That… took a turn for the dramatic…”

“When was the last time either of you went on date with someone else?”

“Ronan doesn’t date.” Blue raised her eyebrows. “And I had a girlfriend, for a bit. You remember.”

“Yeah, I remember she broke up with you because, hmm, let me think…” Blue sarcastically tapped her lips in a motion that reminded Adam of Gansey so much it gave him whiplash.

“Because I spent too much time at work.”

“And?”

“When I wasn’t at work I was hanging out with Ronan.”

“And that was a year ago.” Blue was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to catch up. 

When he had the facts all laid out in front of him and he examined them from every angle, there seemed to be only one logical conclusion.

“Fuck. I have to go back to work.”

“Do you know what you’ll do?”

“I don’t know, Blue. I guess I have to talk to Ronan. Thanks for… all this. It was… enlightening.”

“Let me know what happens, I guess.”

*

When Adam got back to the apartment after work, it was empty. Ronan had left him a note on the side though, on top of a Tupperware container.

‘ _Gone to see lawyer then Matthew. Microwave for 3 minutes. Don’t burn it – R’_

Adam rolled his eyes. Honestly, he’d burnt leftover noodles one time and now Ronan didn’t trust him to reheat anything. Something tugged warmly inside his chest. Even though they were, well, fighting, Ronan had left dinner out for him.

He reheated his food and ate in silence. He thought about the voicemails he’d left for Blue. He thought about Ronan, his face when he’d left the apartment yesterday. Had he been cold? Even if they began a relationship, it would be stupid to stay married, it would be too much pressure. Besides, if Ronan had gone to the lawyer, it looked like it was too late.

Adam considered making a list. He turned on the TV instead, and tried to concentrate on something inane. It didn’t work and he was still deep in his thoughts when the front door opened.

“It’s done. I’ve got you a copy.” Ronan said without preamble. He slapped a manila envelope on the table in front of Adam. Adam stared at the envelope. He felt just as sick as he had the morning after the wedding.

“Ronan, we have to talk about this. We can’t keep avoiding it.” He stood up and faced Ronan.

“Fuck, I knew this was coming. You know I’ve been selfishly trying to keep you in my life all this time. There is literally no reason for me to live in DC other than you. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later, I just... Didn’t know that I wasn’t ready yet. Look, I’ll be gone in the morning. I’m going back to the Barns. You were right, we can’t stay like this.” Ronan sounded angry, but he also sounded resigned and sad, and it was this that made Adam suddenly desperate to fight for him.

“Fuck that. You’re just gonna leave me? That’s not what I meant! We couldn’t stay _married._ That doesn’t mean _move out_!”

“What and things will just go back to how they were before will they? We can’t go on pretending this didn’t happen. I’ve tried to be what you need and clearly I’ve fucked even that up. I’m sorry that any of this ever fucking happened. You should never want to see me again.”

Ronan still looked angry and upset, but Adam didn’t back down.

“You asshole. Don’t tell me how to feel. Marrying you was the best mistake I’ve ever made. I’m not sorry, not at all. We can’t go on pretending like there’s nothing here.”

“Goddammit Adam. You can’t tell me shit like that. I’ve been in love with you since I was fucking seventeen years old.”

Adam stared at the floor. He took a deep breath. It was now or never, he thought. “I didn’t think I could. I didn’t know what it meant, to love someone. I looked at how other people loved and I thought that I just didn’t have it in me. But you? There’s no one else I would rather be with. Hell, I had a girlfriend who dumped me because I would rather have been with you than with her. There’s no way I would’ve proposed drunk Vegas marriage to anyone else.”

“You didn’t—” Ronan started. He was looking carefully at Adam, something like hope burning in his eyes.

“I did. It was my idea. I had lunch with Blue today, she played me some of my drunk voicemails. And I remembered some things. We snuck into shitty fake Venice. It was my idea. And I’m still not sorry about it.”

The corner of Ronan’s mouth twitched upwards. “You stopped me from falling in the water. God why did I want to swim so badly that night?”

Adam snorted. His heart was thudding desperately in his chest. Ronan held an arm out to him and Adam crashed into him. Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam. Adam pressed his face into the side of Ronan’s neck and breathed him in deeply.

“I’m not letting you take all the blame, Parrish. Maybe you suggested it, but I agreed, and you wouldn’t have suggested it if I hadn’t got your drunk.”

“You didn’t _get me drunk_ , I did just fine by myself. Really, it’s Henry and Gansey’s fault for deciding we should all go to Vegas in the first place.”

Ronan laughed into Adam’s hair. “If we’re going that far, then really it’s Nevada’s fault for making it so easy to get married.”

Adam laughed. They stood in the middle of their kitchen, wrapped around each other.

“Please don’t move out.” Adam’s voice was small and muffled in Ronan’s shoulder.

Ronan laughed, one loud, “Ha! You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Parrish.”

Adam snorted. “Apparently not. Not even a divorce’ll get rid of you.”

Ronan stiffened. “Do you think we should’ve… not got divorced?”

Adam put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders and held him at arms’ length. “No Lynch, I think getting divorced was definitely the right thing to do. I want us to both be completely sober next time we ever even contemplate the idea of marriage.”

“Alright, don’t push it.” Ronan laughed and tangled his hand’s in Adam’s shirt to pull him in to kiss him. This, Adam remembered. Ronan’s mouth was hot and hard against his, his hands were fisted in Adam’s shirt. Adam slid his hands around to cup Ronan’s head, his fingers scraping over buzzed hair.

“Ronan,” Adam breathed, as Ronan’s teeth scraped along his jaw. Adam’s hands ran down Ronan’s sides and when he scraped the edges of his nails across the edges of Ronan’s tattoo, Ronan moaned brokenly. Adam held Ronan tight to him. “I don’t want to mess this up. Ever again.”

“We’re never drinking again, remember,” Ronan huffed into Adam’s neck. Adam breathed a laugh and pulled Ronan towards the sofa, where he tugged him down on top of him.

“I mean it though; we’re not going to wake up tomorrow morning and pretend this didn’t happen.”

Ronan shook his head. He tangled his fingers in Adam’s hair and leant down to kiss him again. Adam sucked Ronan’s bottom lip into his mouth and gently bit down on it. They kissed and kissed until Adam’s lips were tingling from the stubble on Ronan’s jaw.

“Bed?” Ronan asked, pressing his forehead against Adam’s. Adam could feel where Ronan was hard, pressing into his thigh through their jeans.

“I don’t know, Lynch. Maybe you owe me dinner and a real date first. Can’t help but feel we’ve done things in the wrong order.”

“What? You mean relationships don’t go: drunk kisses, move in together, get married, get divorced, agree to be boyfriends, then have sex?”

“Boyfriend? Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Well you apparently don’t want to be my husband.”

Adam glowered at him. “Too soon. But I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Sex now?” Ronan grinned broadly at him. He ground his hips down into Adam’s. Adam choked back a moan.

“Please?” Ronan whispered against his mouth.

“Begging already, Lynch? I thought I’d have to try harder for that.”

Ronan rolled off of the sofa and pulled Adam up to his feet. “Your room?”

“Yeah, fuck, I don’t want that raven watching me have sex like something out of a bad gothic romance novel.”

“Hey, Chainsaw loves you. Maybe I’m not gonna put out now, if you’re gonna insult me and Chainsaw.”

Adam threw his head back in a laugh. “Fine by me, I wasn’t the one who was begging just now.”

Ronan smirked his shark-like smirk and tugged Adam back to him. He kissed Adam hard, and sucked his tongue into his mouth. Adam groaned and heat coiled low in his stomach. When Ronan pulled away, Adam was breathing hard. He didn’t know how he’d be able to do anything that wasn’t kissing Ronan ever again.

They stumbled across the apartment, taking their hands off of each other long enough to shed their clothes on the way. Adam tripped out of his jeans and landed gracelessly on the bed. He kicked his underwear down his legs.

“Smooth, Parrish.” Ronan watched him with dark eyes, raking up and down his body. a hand sliding into his boxers, fisting his cock.

“Call me Adam now,” he said, pulling Ronan down onto the bed on top of him. He ran his hands down Ronan’s back and stripped his boxers off of him.

“Are you asking, or telling?”

“Telling.”

Ronan kissed him hard; Adam moaned desperately into the kiss.

“What do you want?” Ronan’s voice was rough and low.

Adam rolled them over, pushing Ronan down onto the bed and sitting up, so he straddled Ronan’s thighs. He ran his hands up Ronan’s body, skimming from the top of his thighs, around his straining cock and up his chest. He grazed his hand along Ronan’s jaw and pushed two of his fingers into Ronan’s mouth. Ronan gasped and greedily sucked them in deep.

“You.” Adam’s own voice sounded shot through with desire. His wet fingers slid out of Ronan’s mouth, leaving a trail of saliva from his swollen bottom lip.

“Tell me, you have to tell me, Adam,” Ronan begged. Adam pushed his fingers back in to Ronan’s mouth, and Ronan moaned wildly around them.

“I want your mouth. I want to push my cock between your lips like this, make you swallow me down.” He pushed his fingers further into Ronan’s mouth and leant down to whisper close to Ronan’s ear. He slid his cock against Ronan’s. “I want to fuck you. I want to put you on your knees and finger you until all you can think of is how good my cock’s gonna feel in you. I want to fuck you on your back so I can watch your face as I make you come for me. I want to come deep inside you and I want to push my fingers back in afterwards, play with you, make you come again for me.”

“Jesus Parrish,” Ronan breathed.

Adam smirked down at Ronan. He was flushed and panting. Adam didn’t think he looked much better. He was painfully hard; he couldn’t stop the grind of his hips into Ronan’s. Their cocks slid together, friction sending electric shocks up Adam’s spine.

“You asked me to tell you what I wanted. Tell me what you want.”

“Everything,” Ronan gasped. “Jesus, fuck, I could come right now, just from this and your dirty fucking mouth, Adam.”

Adam grinned. He cupped Ronan’s head in his hands and kissed him hard, erratically thrusting his cock against Ronan’s. Adam slid a hand down between them and wrapped it around Ronan’s cock. He rubbed a thumb over the slit and Ronan keened.

“Yeah? Do you want to come? Do you want to know what else I’m going to do to you?”

“Adam, please,” Ronan gasped. He was writhing against Adam, Adam’s cock slipped between Ronan’s thighs.

“Turn over for me,” he panted into Ronan’s ear. “Shh, come on.”

Ronan rolled over and Adam couldn’t help but moan loudly at the site of Ronan’s back muscles moving under his pale, tattooed skin. He ran his hands reverently down Ronan’s spine, then followed with his mouth, laving wet, hot kisses against the curls of his tattoo.

He plastered himself along Ronan’s back, and kissed and sucked at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Adam pulled Ronan onto his knees, then reached around and grasped Ronan’s cock again. He pushed his thumb into the head again and Ronan bucked forward into his hand. Adam used his free hand to fumble for the lube he kept in his nightstand. He squeezed Ronan’s thighs together between his legs and squirted the lube between them.

“Adam,” Ronan whined, lifting his head from the pillow.

“Shh, are you gonna let me do this to you? Gonna let me fuck your thighs.” Adam squeezed some lube onto Ronan’s cock and jerked him faster.

Ronan nodded, dropping his head back down to the pillow. Adam used his free hand to guide his cock between Ronan’s thighs. He let out a ragged moan, as he slid into the heat, his cock nestled up against Ronan’s balls.

“Oh God, Ronan. Feels so fucking good.”

Adam plastered himself against Ronan’s back again, and Ronan twisted his head round, trying to kiss him. Ronan’s ass was cradled in Adam’s hips and Adam could feel the soft give of it as he thrust forward. He swore softly into Ronan’s sweaty skin. He could hear Ronan saying his name over and over again under his breath, in time with his thrusts.

“Come on, I want you to come for me. Make a fucking mess.” Adam’s hand was moving frantically over Ronan’s cock.

Ronan’s whole body tensed up, as he came with a choked back shout, half muffled in the pillow. His thighs squeezed hard around Adam as he came all over the sheets, his chest and Adam’s hand. Adam thrust messily into the tight heat and came against Ronan, teeth digging into the meat of his shoulder.

He collapsed forward, and then rolled off of Ronan.

“Messy,” he remarked, looking at his hands and the mess on Ronan’s thighs.

“God you’re dirty Parrish.”

“Yeah, you love it.” Adam ran his hand through the mess of lube and come on Ronan’s thigh. He slid a finger between Ronan’s cheeks and teased at his hole. Ronan shuddered and Adam laughed. “I can’t believe you let me do that you.”

“There’s not a lot I wouldn’t let you do to me.” Ronan shifted around and kissed Adam again, softly, sweetly.

Adam groaned. “This is why you wanted to come in my room isn’t it? So my bed was the one that got messed up.”

Ronan snickered. “It wasn’t premeditated, honestly.”

Adam rolled off the bed. “You need a shower.”

Ronan smirked at him. “And whose fault is that? I was fine before I let you have your way with me.”

The warm bubble of happiness expanded inside of Adam as he smiled down at Ronan, sprawled on his bed still. _This is it,_ he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope the characterisation was okay!
> 
> I really appreciate kudos and comments! You can find me on Tumblr [behindtheatlantic](https://behindtheatlantic.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! <3


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